


The Taste of Merigolds

by etherialmaterial



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit Consent, F/F, Falling In Love, H O T, Merhart - Freeform, My OC is in here im sorry, Sex, There needs to be more Phil and Triss stuff on here, maybe sodden?, this is for fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24778570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherialmaterial/pseuds/etherialmaterial
Summary: Triss Merigold now settling down in Foltest court, finds her time being sucked up when Philippa Eilhart appears, without hand maids to tend to Philippa's every whim, Foltest orders Triss to fill the roll, to Philippa's delight.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii/Yennefer z Vengerbergu/Original Female Character(s), Philippa Eilhart & Triss Merigold, Philippa Eilhart/Triss Merigold, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. Unexpected Guest

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first chapter I hope you enjoy! I do Witcher requests so please visit my page! Chapter 2 coming soon. Also a note: I will likely stream my writing process on twitch soon on Friday the 10th and 17th, feel free to drop in, I’m always keen to new ideas and would love for your input to make my works not only better but enjoyable for you and other Witcher lovers. Check me out at and follow me at twitch.tv/EtherialMaterial to get notified of my lastest stream, more info in my profile description. Can’t wait to see you there!

“Will you come back for me?” 

The hope glinting as it slides off her tongue once more. 

“I can’t make promises.” 

The linen covers slipping from her skin, falling away almost as fast as the small spark in her eyes. 

“I would ask you to stay, but that would be foolish to wouldn’t it.” 

Her lover shifted, their eyes meeting, she didn’t even know their name, a fruitless affair, someone to pour water on the smolders of affection in the morn. The figure sighed deeply, before gathering their clothes strewn across tile flooring. 

“As hard you are to resist, I can not stay, I must return to my wife and court, I have over stayed my welcome and time here. I will take my leave before I am cut down by political assassins.” 

This earned the figure a scowl and a deep sigh. 

“Yes lord. You are dismissed.” 

She mutters, the figure stepping out, not looking back at the naked silhouette haphazardly covered in unkept sheets. Triss fell back into the bed, groaning deeply in frustration. “Bullshit.” She whispers, clamping her nose bridge between her fingers, sending shivers down her cheeks. She arises, the sheets flowing off her fair skin like water, her fiery locks trailing behind her slightly. Her gaze met in the mirror, she observed herself for a moment before screaming and slamming her fists into the wood. I am better than this. Her mind screamed, as shame and regret fills her head. What the fuck is wrong with me. She presses her palms into her eyes, to relieve the pain now building, the stress and anxiety bitter on her tongue. She dug her nails into her arms before slowly picking up her shattered emotions piece by piece. Gripping the soft fabric of the dress thrown on the floor, causing her to cut through the haze in her mind, seeing clearly despite the hang over. She clothed herself in her court robes folding up the remaining garments. She looked back at the unkempt bed, taking in a sharp inhale before turning away. 

Her door clicked open, she was half way in doing up the bun before she was met with a small man, who ceased his approach as their gazed met. 

“Someone is here to see you urgently.” 

The small man rushed as he was shoved aside. As her lips parted, her eyes widening at the image in-front of her. 

“Lady Eilhart?” Triss muttered. Their green eyes connecting, Philippa’s gaze unrelentingly, unforgiving. 

“We have business to discuss now.” 

That feeling of stress and anxiety, now returning tenfold as her superiors' sharp eyes pierced into her soul. She had thought the feeling of terror she had abounded in her leave from Aretuza, now clawing its way back. The servant now quickly making his way out the room, likely feeling the same terror now mounting its way on herself. Her lips pursed and brows furrow as the door is partly slammed closed. 

“What is your reason for such an unexpected showing. I had thought you made a big deal of your appearances.” 

Triss immediately regretted her pointed tone and words the moment Philippa’s cold and stiff hands rested on her shoulders, she was turned around, forced to face the sorceress, whose face was etched in anger. “Triss…” she spoke softly, damn she knew how to keep composer, even if the rest of Philippa's body screamed aggression. 

“That man you just slept with is from my court! What the hell are you looking for!” 

Triss turned away looking at the unkempt bed once more, anxiety crawling up her throat. She scoffed, punching down her feelings. “Does it even matter. He gave me nothing but limp dick.” She retorted, practically spitting. The sides of Philippa's lips upturned for a moment 

“Is that all you’re here for, to call me a whore or are you here to rouse another advisor.” 

Triss turned around, resting her fore finger on her lips. 

“I wish. But I was sent here to over see “Redaina’s trade” I’m meeting the new addition to our court.” 

Triss hummed before letting her hand rest on the older women’s shoulder. 

“As Foltest would have wanted, shall I show you around? Even if “Redaina’s Trade” and meeting a new advisor are...very different.” 

Philippa’s small smile morphs into a full smirk as she and Triss exit the room. 

“You're supposed to be a powerful sorceress, not a hand maid. Didn’t I teach you better then to fall into this kind of treatment.” 

Philippa questioned, Triss sighed, before commenting on the lavish wall ordainment, covering cracked stone. 

“This tapestry was made for Foltest, from his father King Medell.” 

Triss inquired staring at the battle space she had observed many times before. 

“I know my history, Triss. I wouldn’t have let Tissaia send you here if I hadn't.” 

Triss ignored the comment continuing to walk Philippa down the hall, stopping at a portrait of Foltest himself. 

“well this is new.” 

Philippa’s voice was soft as she made her observation, letting her delicate but cold touch rest on the stitched corners of the canvas. Her green eyes flicked around the painting as she took in the man's features. 

“He’s a handsome one, isn't he?” 

She teased, Triss held back a giggle, letting a small stream of air out of her front teeth. 

“You could say that. Except between the two of us, he could flip a book with the beak he calls a nose.” 

Philippa smiled as she silently scolded Triss for making fun of her king. They soon came upon the great hall, where Foltest sits in wait. Foltest’s eyes follow Philippa’s motions, eyeing her, almost like a piece of meat, which deeply perturbed Triss. 

“Eilhart, you will take your quarters in a town house, off the castle grounds, but close enough.” 

He spoke softly but with conviction, almost pompously. Philippa’s lips pursed, as she sides eyed Triss. 

“Merigold, you are to stay with lady Eilhart and tend to all that she asks, we cannot spare any of the hands, as you know, we are having a courting celebration, to honor our resent nobles' successions.” 

Triss’s eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as she wanted to argue but Philippa’s gaze baring into the side of her face kept her quiet. 

“Yes, your liege.” She bowed as Philippa’s lips slightly upturned, making the anxiety return. 

Oh no, what is she going to do to me.


	2. Just a taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally the two women settle into their new lodging, and some things just don’t go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the wait horrible writers block, also sorry for any typos or holes, I hope you enjoy, I do requests so feel free to contact me.

Philippa eyed Triss as they were escorted out of the hall, as unsettling as Philippa’s gaze was, she found slight comfort, despite it being unrelenting. 

“Anxious?”

Philippa’s words dancing off her tongue, Triss’s mind wandering to how sweetly sour her thoughts must taste in the back of her throat. 

“Triss?” 

Philippa’s eyebrow quirked upwards as their eyes meet, Triss’s gaze absent lost in her in mind still drowning in the thought of the taste on her own tongue. She was jolted out of her fantasy as Philippa tugged at her arm. She shamed herself for thinking such a thing about a superior.

“Pardon me, I was lost in thought.” 

Philippa’s lips upturned suddenly, they locked eyes for a short moment Triss’s throat tightened as the older women's taut gaze caused her stomach to churn. Beautiful was an understatement when it came to Lady Eilhart, cheekbones that melted into a strong jaw, beautiful deeply hazelnut hair, elegantly braided, slung gently atop her shoulders, and green eyes filled with fiery indignation and boldness. Their shared gazes soon ceased as a blush crept up Triss’s freckled cheeks. 

“You seem anxious young one.” 

Triss cleared her throat, turning towards Philippa.

“I am worried that Foltest’s image of me has become soured.” 

“Ah, Foltest may be your king but he can be rash, but, abandoning you would mean his collapse. I strongly doubt he would ever absolve you from your position.”

Her tone is cold, Triss furrows her brow, searching for emotion in the sudden harshness. 

“Let us go, Ive had enough of being in these cramped corridors.”

With a scowl towards their escourters, the gates open, and sun seeps into the cold stone hall, Triss allowed the warmth to envelop her skin entirely, a small smile perched on her lips as they were led through and out to the oh so familiar town. Triss recalling a time when she was first appointed to fetch ingredients from a local merchant, haggling her way to a more affordable price on wolfsbane extract and dove eggs. She giggled audibly at the thought, catching Philippa’s attention. Their gaze caught once more. Triss noticing her quizzical expression.

“Recalling an old memory. As dreary and lifeless the winters are here, the warm months are always wonderfully vibrant.” 

The other sorceress’s expression was unreadable. 

“As the seasons change so do the local market prices.” 

Triss shifted her head towards a bakers stall, 

“They are usually 9 Bezants, but when we bring in nobility on the warmer times of year, the prices are steep.” 

Philippa slightly smiled as they crossed a small street toward a large building. The escorts opened the door before briefly setting down the key, taking their leave without conversation softly closing the door. Triss walked around, tracing her fingers across the furnishings. 

“Prepare me a bath pet.” 

Triss shifted towards her. 

“Pardon? We haven’t even settled in.” 

Philippa’s eyes narrowed. 

“Did you hear not of Foltest’s orders. May I remind you, you are to be under my direction.” 

She let out a large sigh, turning away from the woman, brows furrowed intensely. 

“Will you provide me aid? Mistress.”

Triss wasn’t a shy girl from Aretuza anymore, she assured herself that she could play this game just as well as Philippa. The woman’s brow quirked upwards at the new nickname. 

“Aid with what. We are sorceresses are we not.”

Triss sighed once more. 

“Help me carry the tub please.” 

Her face was plastered with a judge mental expression.

“I shall continue to take note of our lodgings, I will call you when I am in need of service.” 

She was audibly and physically frustrated with Philippa, but as always, the older women ignored the feelings of others. Triss ignored her sharp words, now walking into the dining room, a small black table near a hearth and iron stove, an impressive piece, well carved. She shifted back towards the table, silver goblets, and carved candle sticks, underneath one, a letter. She grabbed the paper, the seal of Kovir pressed in blue wax. She opened it carefully reading it allowed to herself. 

“To those lodging in the fine house of Sleyda Nobility, to respect each seal upon décor, each elegant carving atop wood and silver, and to treat each piece of furniture as if it where of flesh and blood. Housing list is located two paces to the right in a drawer near the hearth.

Provided by the court of Foltest and Landlord Sir Sulayman Gruffy’d.” 

Triss carried out the letters instructions, grabbing a yellow sheet of woven fabric, the black ink bleeding into the small stitching. She studied the houses layout, the cellar taking up a whole floor. The 3 rooms and servants quarters, the dinning room and library. She decided to scout the one that most intrigued her, the home library. She imagined piles of books on shelves, tracing her fingers across the newly waxed backings, cross the rooms space, settling on a deep feather long chair, sipping the finest of Tameria’s wine. Her shoes clacked against the wooden boards, as she followed the mappings instructions, coming upon a set of double doors, resting her hand upon the handle and turning, hearing the small click of them parting, her eyes first met with the small fire place, then a small line of shelves, and a figure, leaned over. Wisps of loose dirty brown bangs, gracing her almost porcelain smooth skin, freckles dusted like cinnamon on fine sugar pastries, flush pink cheeks, and those beautifully complex green eyes, and her smooth graceful fingers splaying open a book. Pursed lips, furrowed brows and the fleeting expression of relief that soon left Philippa’s face. 

“I…Phil.” 

Triss was breathless. This was the most picturesque thing she had come upon in the longest while. It was certainly a sight she never wanted to stop looking at. Better than any handwoven portrait of nobles, battle scenes painted over years with finest hand crafted oil paints and woven canvas.

“Yes pet?” 

Triss swallowed her intensions, retreating back into her mind, constructing whatever excuse she could. She held out the folded paper, trying to speak but the words fell out of her reach. She approached her, hands working on their own, setting down the piece of paper beside the older woman, placing a hand on Philippa’s shoulder the other gripping her chin. 

“Triss.” 

She was snapped out of her mind, each gazing into the other sorceress's eyes. Faces inches apart, Triss’s mind screaming with anxiety. 

“Philippa.”


End file.
